


Out the Box

by blakefancier



Series: For Your Entertainment [10]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's two steps forward and one step back when it comes to Howard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out the Box

When Howard wakes, he's sprawled against Steve's chest, feeling sore and unsure, as the memories of what they did flood his mind. They… He… Howard swallows hard and resists the desire to press kisses to Steve's smooth chest. He takes a deep breath and begins to slowly move away when Steve wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close again.

"Don't," Steve says, his voice slurring with sleep, and traces his fingers up Howard's spine, then back down again. He presses his palm against the small of Howard's back.

He shivers and tenses, his stomach doing flip-flops at the proprietary nature of the gesture.

"Shh, I got you." Steve moves, flipping Howard onto his back and pinning his hands over his head.

It… *God,* Howard's cock is suddenly hard and Steve, Steve is hard, too. Hard and pressing against Howard's stomach, insistent and hot. Howard's breath hitches in his throat and he gives in to the urge to let his thighs fall open.

He reminds himself it doesn't matter anymore; Steve's fucked him, left him loose and wet and aching. Left him panting for more. God, Steve's effectively *collared* him. He wiggles and tries to pull out of Steve's grip; he can't.

"Good morning," Steve says and kisses Howard, hard and brutal, forcing Howard's mouth open with his tongue.

And Howard… his body thrums with the tension and heat of it, his cock jerks with arousal and he moans into Steve's mouth, tongue curling against Steve's.

Please, he thinks as he squirms under Steve, please, please, please. He's sore but he can take it, he—

Steve breaks the kiss and sits up; Howard moans in disappointment.

"I can take it," he says, panting and arching his body. "I can. I… I can."

"I know you can, Howard." Steve slides his hands down Howard's arms and flicks his nipples.

Howard hisses, but leaves his hands where they are. "Please. P-*Please.*"

"Quiet," he says, and Howard presses his lips together. "Peggy and Falsworth, they think… They got all these weird ideas about what I should do to you. Like how I should *collar* you. Which is tradition, I guess, but I kind of like my tags around your neck. Don't you?"

Howard swallows hard and nods because he does. He likes the way the metal warms against his skin, the way he's got a bit of Steve around his neck.

"And they kept telling me that I should think about ways of… of punishing you." Steve flushes and frowns. "I guess that's… Do you want to be punished, Howard?"

His first thought is no, definitely no, because when he hears the word he automatically thinks of broken noses and bloody mouths and _I'll kill you._ But Steve isn't like that, he would never hurt Howard like that. Steve might… Well, Howard doesn't really know.

He takes a deep breath and tries hard to keep his voice steady, even. "It depends on how you'd..." Not punish, never punish, "how you'd correct me."

"Correct?" Steve smiles at that, obviously liking that terminology better. "Peggy suggested that I put you over my lap and spank you until your ass is bright red."

Howard can't keep himself from moaning or rolling his hips.

"You like that idea," Steve says, his voice husky, and splays a hand across Howard's belly. "You want me to tan your hide when you need correcting, Howard? You want my hand all over your ass?"

He lets out a soft whine and squeezes his eyes closed. He can't keep his body from responding to the idea. He can't keep himself from thrusting his hips. He… His cock is drooling with his arousal and leaving a wet, sticky mess on his belly; Steve runs his fingers through it.

"I think it defeats the purpose if you like it. It's supposed to be a deterrent." Steve chuckles. "I've never seen a guy get so… so wet before." He must make a distressed sound, because Steve pets his hip and says, quickly, "No, no, I like it. I like it a lot."

Still, it's embarrassing. It can't be normal.

"Howard." Steve runs a thumb against the head of Howard's cock, making him jerk and moan. "I love seeing how wet I make you. I love it." Then Steve slides his hand between Howard's legs and gently brushes his fingers against Howard's opening. "Too sore for my fingers?"

He clenches his hands into fists and shakes his head.

"What's your safeword?" Steve pulls his fingers away, but a moment later they return, slick with oil. "Howard?"

"Stall," he bursts out. "It's stall!"

"Do you need to use it?" Steve teases him with light strokes that only hint at penetration.

He gasps out a no and writhes as the tension builds. "Inside me. Please… you can… inside me!"

Steve nods and, oh, God, the slight burn of penetration makes him cry out a little and Steve stops. "Howard?"

"Fine! I'm fine! Please don't stop, please, please, please." God, he's babbling and he can't stop. It shouldn't feel this good. Fingers shouldn't feel this good.

"That it, Howard. That's it. I knew you could handle this. I knew you could," Steve says as he fucks Howard with slow, shallow thrusts of his fingers. And it's, oh, oh, those words make him greedy for more of everything.

He groans and moves, grinding down on Steve's fingers, clenching tight and jerking when Steve brushes against that spot inside him. He's going to spill from Steve's fingers, he knows he is, and he doesn't care. He wants to. He wants Steve to see him break apart. He wants Steve to put him back together.

"You're so wonderful, Howard. Perfect." Steve's breathing hard and his skin is sheened with sweat. Howard wants to lick him, wants to taste him, want to… wants to do *everything.*

"More," he says, his voice thick. "Sir, more." And oh, Steve's so good to him, so very good, because a third finger stretches Howard, curls into him, sparking off another spate of babbling that degenerates into cries and choked off exclamations.

"I know," Steve says out of the blue, his fingers moving faster, rougher. "I know, Howard. I know how to correct you."

Howard's vision blurs and his whole body vibrates with the tension and pleasure.

"I'm gonna strip you to the waist." Steve's voice is as rough as his fingers, rough and deep, as if he's imparting some secret. "Then I'm gonna pull you around the base by my tags. Make sure everyone sees you. Make sure everyone sees the marks I'm gonna leave on you, sees how wet the front of your pants are because you're so excited. Then I'm gonna make you kneel in the war room. And you won't be allowed to say anything, do anything, while everyone watches."

And that's not—Howard doesn't—but a cry escapes his lips and his vision goes white as he comes, his body clamping tight around Steve's fingers.

When he comes back to himself, ten, fifteen, no *thirty-three* seconds later, he's still shaking from the magnitude of the orgasm, and Steve is gasping above him, frantically jerking off.

"Steve?" he croaks. "Do you—"

A small cry escapes Steve's lips and Howard feels the splatter on his stomach and chest. A few moments later, Steve gives a breathless laugh, kisses Howard, and sits up. "That's not what I planned at all."

Howard doesn't ask him what he did plan.

"I’m hungry. Are you hungry?" Steve gets out of bed. "I'll get us something to eat. Can you…. I want you to kneel on the bed and wait for me."

And Howard wants to curl into a ball and sleep. He moves slowly onto his knees, grimacing slightly at the ache of his muscles and the drying mess on his stomach and chest.

Steve smiles and gently runs his hand through Howard's hair. "I love—"

"Stall!"

Steve jerks his hand back and an emotion Howard can't name flickers across his face. "Okay," Steve says, slowly. "I won't… I'll clean up and get us breakfast."

Howard nods, suddenly unable to speak, and stares down at the bed.

Steve sighs and tugs at Howard's hair. "Look at me." When Howard does, he smiles again. "It's okay. I'll be back as quick as I can."

Howard wants to apologize, but before he can even begin to think of how to word it, Steve is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was supposed to go differently, but Howard Anthony Walter Stark is a fucking bastard. Steve, please take your puppy in hand and give him some damn *correction.*


End file.
